Best Whistle Poems
I cannot whistle
It's sad but true
I try and try
yet no sound comes through
My lips I purse
My teeth I grit
I try real hard
but blow out spit
Categories:
whistle, children, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
The whistles screamed that cold dark night
Winter, 1903
At least fourteen would perish
Way out on the prairie
The westbound Sunset Limited,
Eastbound Crescent City Express,
Met head on in a collision
Lives lost in great distress
Horror met the rescuers
Two twisted trains in flames
Of fourteen known to've perished
Of two, were not found names
A hundred plus years later,
On the date and pre-dawn hour
We'd come to the memorial plaque
With Teddy bears and flowers
Holding our thoughts in silence
We walked along the trail
Remembering the violence;
Their deaths upon that rail
Precisely 2:50 A.M
What was it? We don't know
But in our silent vigil
We heard a whistle blow
Sounding clear across the night
Once long, Three short, Last long
But there was nothing in our sight
Praying - we moved along
Our memorial under silver stars
For those perished on the track
Ended as we got in cars
With one last look-
a century back
We'll never solve the mystery
But do we need to know?
Commemorating history
We heard a whistle blow
Categories:
whistle, memorial, scary, sound,
Form:
Rhyme
When I’m drifting softly to sleep
I often hear a faint sound from
across the valley, the whistle from
a passing train, mysterious and lonely.
In my mind’s eye I can see its shadow
plunging into the darkness..
Only the wind left in its wake.
It takes part of my heart on its journey.
A lonely child played on the tracks
Arms outstretched, balancing.. bowing.
The old station..castle, fortress, friend.
Dreams of far away places and adventures..
In passing, a hand raised in greeting..a gift
to savor when twilight called me home.
Now, when I hear the glorious whistle
I pause to remember, in a way to grieve
the past.. and in perhaps, on occasion, the present.
The train rumbled on…..into the night.
written in 09
Categories:
whistle, emotions, memory,
Form:
Free verse
One summers day
Gentle stroll
Through the bed of reeds
In natures fold
As i whistle away
A tune unheard
As all around
Whistling like birds
But when i view
None i see
Whats this whistling
That follows me
A gentle breeze
Graces by
The reeds all sway
As if to sigh
Walking on
With widened grin
The reeds and i
Whistle down the wind
" Inspired by Nathans Haiku Natural Melodies "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature3.php
Categories:
whistle, inspirational, nature
Form:
Rhyme
Once upon a time I shared a cubicle with the detention supervisor.
Mr. Hell was swift and severe detention.
I was lavish and immediate positive attention.
We got along great, Mr. Hell and I, as I did not say anything to him,
And He felt equally compelled to share stories with me.
One day when I entered the school late, after the district wasted my morning
On a mandatory counseling meeting which was a complete and utter waste of my time,
And took me away from the children, which put me in a bad mood to boot
The secretary said, “Oh, it’s BAD in the detention room right now. I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”
So of course I ran right in, with all my usual reserve and finesse.
Three grown men were standing along the walls.
Each one of them had their arms crossed and frowning faces.
An eight-year-old-boy who was regularly beaten with a belt by an angry severe father
A particular favorite of mine actually, being able to relate well to this side of him,
Was in the middle yelling, screaming, and SHRiEKING at the top of his lungs.
I said, “Tray, do you want to go with me?” To his credit he glared, stuck out his tongue and threw a vase at my head.
Having swift reflexes, I caught it and carefully handed it back to him, which I could see almost made him smile.
The arm-folded men could not see this from their vantage points, being in back and at his sides.
“What would it take to get you to come with me?” I asked Tray after he threw the vase at a now-angry-looking six foot three two-hundred and ten pound DARE officer, which means a police man, and how dare an 8 year-old bully one of them, right?
Tray thought for a long time.
I was SO hoping the men would stay out of it.
One started to talk and I gave him the HATE look, so he stopped. He was the vice principal.
Categories:
whistle, abuse, judgement, perspective, power,
Form:
Free verse
Finally, made it
In the championship
No redo's
All this build up for this
Love is what got us here
We are the best
Hard is the way we play
In this moment, this is all that matters
So much love, blood, and sweat in this game
The one chance we will ever get
Love is what got us here
Exactly where we wanted to be
Categories:
whistle, career, dedication, emotions, love,
Form:
Acrostic
Late at night dreams beckoning me
to come to them, as I start to drift off
into a relaxing hypnotic state of mind.
Hearing a train whistle close by,
now am wide awake, I listen to
the gentle whistle as the train
chugs along the tracks.
Then a thought comes to
me, I wonder where this
lonely train is going.
Wishing I could hop that
old freight and go see.
Only time for me to do
that is long gone,
so will try to fall
asleep and dream
about where the old
train is going, the whistle sound
is almost gone, as I drift off into
dream land.
written 5-4-11
Categories:
whistle, happiness
Form:
Free verse
Puffing languidly by blowing the whistle, there came
the mementos of zig-zag meter gauged companion,
The first consignment on the railroad track, locomotives shipped from the United Kingdom,
by crossing 586 bridges, beautiful Himalayan Mountain Ranges,
37 tunnels of major attractions arrived at the destination,
A first venture, to boost up the drop's tea and coal transportation.
That day, a track known as Brahmaputra Valley,
literally airdropped as an island railway went conversion,
became history to usher the broad gauge interconnectivity of the remote region.
Eleven years later in 1892, thousands of men and women
gathered to cast the last glimpse of the railway track
at the eastern part of the Indian Continental,
to become the witness of the track's last communication.
An emotional moment, when the train ran for the last time
on the 115 year old meter gauge line
by flagging and blowing the last whistle of the dominion.
To bid tearful, joyful adieu to the first whistle
of the last morning, on the old track of the 65 km
railway line, inaugurated in 1881, in the so called
Land of the Raising Sun as commemoration!
Categories:
whistle, analogy, farewell, history, remembrance
Form:
Free verse
Your sound flew through the air,
A blaring auditory missile,
Though no one that I noticed
Seemed to cringe or even bristle.
The driver of the bus, however,
Waited just a bissel,*
Enough to let on board the man
Inspiring this epistle.
*little bit in Yiddish
Categories:
whistle, city, sound,
Form:
Rhyme
Unlikely the explorers of the Wild West,
I'm bound for sheer adventure, not amazing discovery;
finding gold is far from any quest
while this clanking, slow-moving stream locomotive
will take me to places so primitive...
even a small ghost town has tales that conjure mystery!
Whistle along train as your steam puffs...
reaching clouds and turning them into raindrops,
California is still a seeker's dream for the unhappy folks living
in bustling cities enduring noise and pollution;
soundless are the canyons drifting
by without any fearless cowboy riding,
but the watchful coyotes will resent this intrusion...
whenever your whistle startles them when they are napping!
Whistle along train as your steam puffs,
I didn't bring along a single book to read not to be distracted by reality,
only a huge map showing me historic towns...
where daily shootings were as common as drinking whiskey!
Imagine seeing the ghosts of Billy the Kid and Jesse James
roam the dusty streets ready to start a gunfight;
see crowds gather and wait for the winner to shout...
it's like watching a Clint Eastwood's western movie drawing his guns!
Categories:
whistle, history, journey, nature, song,
Form:
Rhyme
By Rachel Dunkerque AKA Carolyn V. Crawford
(lyric and melody)
A blazing sun burned cold behind my face
The day you turned and walked across the space
Into the arms of one from school-year days
Left me alone to yearn for yesterday
I walked away but found I never left
Remained to ponder all I couldn't forget
The kiss you smiled me when our eyes first met
That never promised there would be regret.
I wait to live again our briefest day
To hear you tender call me 'cross the way
To hasten, run into your arms to stay
To never leave, to never go away
And still I wait to hear you whistle clear
Beneath my window, make my earth stand still
And though I wait for you against my will
I'll wait forever, then again until.
REFRAIN
I will wait forever
Till I hear you 'neath my window
Whistle clear, whistle clear, I will wait.
In each season, I will listen
When the day ends, in a new day
Whistle clear, whistle clear, I will wait.
I will wait forever, I will wait forever
I will wait, I will wait, I will wait.
I WILL WAIT . . . I WILL WAIT . . . I WILL WAIT
I WILL WAIT. . . I WILL WAIT.
Categories:
whistle, love,
Form:
Rhyme
If I had a Christmas Whistle.
I'd blow it in your face.
I'd make lots of noise.
Without no disgrace.
It's Christmas time darling.
And joy fills the air.
For Santa is calling.
His team of reindeer..
There's snow on the rooftop.
Firewood in the stove.
Warming up Santa.
From the bitter and cold.
On Dasher, On Prancer, On Vixson let's go.
For Santa is waiting.
To get on with the show.
So if I had a Christmas Whistle.
I'd blow it in your face.
I'd make lots of noise.
Without no disgrace..
It's Christmas time darling.
And joy fills the air.
For Santa is calling..
His team of reindeer...
Christmas Whistle Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2002,2014..ALL rights reserved..
Categories:
whistle, christmas, holiday, time,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Running, after more than you, can hold.
Taking, someone else’s love, and leaving.
Children are fearful of what they’re told.
Can’t you see I’m the one who’s freezing?
I was just a child with a trinket
Never knowing that it’d be, more to me
When you were gone to, too far, from me.
Steady with your hands close to my heart
Never letting our world’s tear us apart
I know, your icicles
I miss the beaches that we played on
You missed the child in your own eyes
Now you’re gone,
But I’m still not here.
Why can’t you wake up
I’m not ready
Please, just take your time, don’t leave now
I can’t fight this world alone.
Categories:
whistle, death, family, goodbye, grief,
Form:
Free verse
Toot, Whistle, Bang, Harrumph
Short days turn into weeks
months melding into years
ever endless changes
the numbers and the fears
new things growing older
wisdom’s elders cast aside
for aging is the future
youth cannot abide.
John G. Lawless
12/29/2015
Categories:
whistle, change, new year, repetition,
Form:
Verse
It sits empty and sad
having gone from good to bad,
where once there were people
now there is only a vacant steeple,
the church is bare, except for a few;
there's not much left, only the morning dew.
Like so many places across this land
this old whistle stop sits closed and broken down.
Where once as children we played, catching fireflies
in Mason jars, and dancing with sparklers in the front yard,
now the homes are closed and falling in,
the stores and movie and grocery too
stand bare and empty with nothing left to do,
and down the street there is hardly a trace,
of the old school, so that we wouldn't recognize the place.
We called this old whistle stop home
and memories we still keep,
every time the freight passes it makes us leap
fireflies still light the nighttime summer sky
and millions of stars still live close by.
So even if the train doesn't stop any more,
and all that is left is its' mournful whistle;
home it is, and home it will be,
no matter if there is nothing left for us to see.
Categories:
whistle, nostalgia, places, old, home,
Form:
Rhyme